


Untitled

by tuesdaysgone



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-09
Updated: 2009-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysgone/pseuds/tuesdaysgone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: F/G bus shenanigans, trying to pick out a movie no one else will bitch about them watching (for the 500th time), whose bunk to try and cram themselves into, keeping in down, not falling out half-naked, etc etc</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ciel_vert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciel_vert/gifts).



  
This is a short little thing, 1635 words and rather NC-17, that I wrote for [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/ciel_vert/profile)[**ciel_vert**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/ciel_vert/) who said yesterday that she wanted to read _F/G bus shenanigans, trying to pick out a movie no one else will bitch about them watching (for the 500th time), whose bunk to try and cram themselves into, keeping in down, not falling out half-naked, etc etc_. So...for you, bb.

Frank cackled wildly when Mikey lost the best-of-three rock/paper/scissors tournament for control of the DVD player. Ray had already deserted them, the lure of the recording studio in the back lounge proving stronger than that of the stack of movies. Bob was slumped in the corner of the dinette with his slippered feet propped on the opposite bench, but he poked desultorily at his laptop keys, having already declared himself neutral in the rock/paper/scissor wars. Gerard waited until Frank had progressed past the victory dance portion of his routine and reached up, hooking a finger through Frank's beltloop, tugging Frank backwards onto his lap. He wrapped an arm around Frank's chest from behind to contain the surprised flailing and leaned over to whisper in Frank's ear. "Let Mikey pick the movie and you can have control of something else."

  
Unsurprisingly, Frank turned immediately to Mikey and said, "You pick, Mikeyway. I don't really care." Gerard squeezed his thigh approvingly; Frank's voice went a little breathy on the last sentence and he added a little roll of his hips as he leaned back more securely against Gerard's chest.

  
"Not on the couch, guys, come on," Mikey said in a resigned tone, and Frank and Gerard both flipped him off automatically. He just raised an eyebrow and knelt by the DVD player. "We're watching Bill and Ted."

  
Frank stopped nuzzling Gerard's neck long enough to say, "Excellent."

  
Bob snorted.

  
It was the longest 90 minutes of Gerard's life; sitting with his nose buried in the sweaty-sweetsmelling tangle of Frank's hair; other parts of his body were also much more interested in the warm bulk of Frank settled against his chest than in the fictional travels of Bill, Ted, and Socrates. Frank seemed far from annoyed at losing control of the movie pick; mostly he was bouncing - _bouncing, seriously, Frank?_ \- on Gerard's lap and reciting the dialogue along with Mikey. Then, when his attention wasn't diverted, he'd take the opportunity to lean in and nibble along Gerard's jaw till Gerard squeaked. The third time it happened, Mikey heaved a put-upon sigh and threw a couch cushion at their heads, and Bob said, "Get a room, losers."

  
Gerard was set to apologize, but Frank beat him to the punch. Sliding off of Gerard's lap and pulling him unceremoniously to his feet, he grinned and said, "We're gonna go fuck in your bunk, Bob." He wasn't quite quick enough to dodge the slipper that came flying across the lounge, but he yanked Gerard through the doorway and closed the door to the bunk area to prevent additional assaults.

  
Frank had him pressed up against the bulkhead in no time, fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, not quite painful but close enough to make him tug experimentally against the restraint. "Nuh-uh," Frank murmured. "You said I was in control." He stretched out the vowels in that last word in a cheerfully obscene sing-song, leaning down to nose along the collar of Gerard's worn tee shirt.

  
Gerard twisted his free hand in Frank's hair and tugged sharply, lifting his head back up to look him in the eye. "Don't make me take it back."

  
Frank just leaned in and continued his exploration of Gerard's neck. "Diva," he breathed in Gerard's ear. "Don't worry, I'll treat you right."

  
"Really," Gerard answered, keeping his voice even despite the insistent pounding of his pulse in his neck, wrists, his dick pressed against the zipper of his loose time-off jeans.

  
"Do you doubt it?" Frank was practically purring into his ear as he pressed a thigh between Gerard's, fingers slipping past the waistband of Gerard's jeans to play with the elastic of his briefs. Gerard canted his hips, chasing some friction, but Frank pulled away, tugging him by his captured wrist and urging him into a bunk - Frank's, thankfully, and not Bob's. By the time Gerard had settled onto the rumpled comforter, Frank had somehow made most of his clothes disappear, and he tumbled in on top, straddling Gerard's hips and twitching the curtain closed behind him.

  
Ink-mottled skin and white teeth gleamed in the murky half-dark; Gerard watched his own hand splay across Frank's chest, long fingers and broad palm skimming the skin in slow-motion. Frank leaned in, tangles of hair tickling Gerard's jaw as he fisted a hand in Gerard's shirt, yanking the collar down to fasten his teeth in the curve of Gerard's shoulder. Gerard whined helplessly in his throat, stifling a louder shout as his head twisted on the pillow and his hips bucked of their own volition. Frank's other hand closed hard around his upper arm and he squeezed his knees tight around Gerard's waist to keep from being thrown to the floor.

  
"That's enough of that," he murmured. He pushed at the cotton of Gerard's tee shirt till he could get it over Gerard's head, grabbing his free hand and twisting the fabric around both wrists with a sinister smile. "Leave this on," he said. Gerard tucked his bound hands behind his head, lips twitching with a faint grin. As restraints went, it wasn't very effective, but that, Gerard mused, wasn't really the point.

  
Frank had settled his weight more firmly onto Gerard's hips and was watching him expectantly. When Gerard relaxed back into the mattress, Frank leaned forward. He'd apparently switched tactics, lips dragging over Gerard's bared skin with exquisite slowness, licking into Gerard's mouth as his hands threaded through Gerard's hair. Gerard made an appreciative noise, arching his back to try to get closer, but Frank pulled back just far enough to deny him the contact he was craving. "Hold still," he told Gerard.

  
"Frank - " Gerard whispered. "Are you _trying_ to drive me insane?"

  
"Why, is it working?" Frank smirked, but the look slipped off his face in a moment and he cupped Gerard's cheek, smoothing his thumb over the bone. "Just relax," he whispered. "I've got this. Let me." He pulled back then, squirming around till he'd slipped out of his shorts. Gerard couldn't move, could barely see, but he watched anyway.

  
"The birds," he rasped, throat suddenly dry.

  
Frank paused, his hands on the button of Gerard's jeans. "What's that?"

  
"They drive me crazy," Gerard admitted. "I want to taste them, Frank. Let me - " Frank surged forward, grabbed ahold of Gerard's forearms as he started to move his arms. They both hissed; Frank's dick was pressed tight against Gerard's stomach. Gerard made a noise deep in his throat. "Enough, Frank, please," he whispered, eyelids sliding shut.

  
"You're so bossy," Frank whispered back, but his hands were busy at Gerard's fly, peeling back the denim and shoving it roughly down Gerard's legs until his cock sprang free. Suddenly it was all Gerard could focus on; Frank's hands, reaching between the mattress and the wall for the lube, wrapping around Gerard's cock, just this side of too-firm, slicking him up. Gerard bit his lip as Frank sat up as much as he could in the bunk, twisting his shoulders to reach back and prepare himself.

  
"Fuck, Frank," Gerard groaned, transfixed. Frank hissed between his teeth, cock bobbing against his belly, and finally he withdrew his fingers and fell forward, barely catching himself with a hand on either side of Gerard's ribs.

  
"Now," Frank whispered, lining up and sinking down till their bodies were flush and Gerard was panting with the effort of staying still. The weight of Frank pinned his hips to the mattress, hampering his movement, and Frank rode his increasingly desperate thrusts, bracing his hands against the bottom of the overhead bunk and bearing down till he apparently found an angle, and a rhythm, that he liked. Gerard expelled a half-stifled moan with every breath, eyes fixed on Frank's fiercely intent face.

  
"Come _here_ ," he snapped finally, and Frank froze, then stretched to crush their lips together. Gerard tasted the hot coppery tang of blood, licking the rough edge his teeth had left on his own lip, and listened to the ragged sounds Frank made in his throat as Gerard's dick shifted inside him. Each breath, each movement sparked white around the edges of his vision and when he came it was with a gasp stifled by Frank's lips. He felt the bump of Frank's knuckles against his stomach as Frank reached between their bodies. It only took a few strokes of his hand on his own cock before he was coming with a hot rush onto their stomachs.

  
Gerard hissed as Frank pulled off his oversensitized cock, and Frank pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck, fumbling behind Gerard's head to untangle the tee shirt from his hands. Gerard winced at the burn in his muscles, stretching experimentally while Frank used the tee shirt to mop them off. "I'm stealing a clean shirt from your bag, fucker," he grumbled, but Frank just pitched the crumpled tee towards the foot of the bunk and settled back down against Gerard's side. Gerard wrapped an arm around him automatically.

  
"I'm impressed," Frank murmured, nosing at Gerard's chin till he could tuck his head comfortably against Gerard's neck. "I didn't think you'd make it. You should bribe me more often."

  
"Should I?" Gerard replied, tracing a line of ink down Frank's forearm. "'Cause I was thinking more like, tie you up and keep you here."

  
"Won't go anywhere, if you stay with me." Frank yawned. His breathing was slowing. Lulled by the heat of Frank against him, the gentle rhythm of their mingling breaths, Gerard felt his own eyelids get heavy. They had hours left till they reached tonight's stop; this wasn't a bad way to spend them, not at all.

  
"I think I can handle that," he whispered, and closed his eyes.


End file.
